


Worlds Apart From You

by JaskiersWolf



Series: Gerlion Tumblr Prompts [9]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Episode Fix-It: s01e06 Rare Species, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Apologizes, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, M/M, Multiverse, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26779261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaskiersWolf/pseuds/JaskiersWolf
Summary: Jaskier is left broken after the mountain and decides to drown his sorrow in whatever piss tasting booze he can get his hands on. Fortunately for him, there is a strangely familiar looking bard there to help him and his bastard witcher fix this mess.- Or Book!Dandelion gets dumped into the show!verse via a portal after the dragon hunt.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Gerlion Tumblr Prompts [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181297
Comments: 114
Kudos: 443





	1. Chapter 1

Jaskier sobbed into his tankard of ale, or at least he thought it was ale. It could have been wine. At this point it could have also been water. He didn’t have a fucking clue. The walls were spinning, or was it the ground? He burped and grimaced at the taste that hit the back of his throat. 

“Fuck.” He groaned and let his head fall onto the table with a loud thud. He vaguely realised it should have hurt but he was too drunk to care. 

Why was he drinking again?

His heart clenched in his chest and he almost vomited all over the table. 

Right. Yeah. Soul-shattering heartbreak. That was it. 

“Bollocks.” He mumbled. 

He began to sing his new tear-jerking song under his breath. His voice cracked pitifully on the words ‘my love’ and he felt an overwhelming urge to scream at the top of his voice at a world that had taken so much from him.

Twenty-two years. He’d given the fucking witcher twenty-two years of his life. He’d given him his youth, his songs, his heart.

And he had nothing to show for it. 

Sure he had fame but what did that even mean? He had very little coin regardless of his renown. A travelling bard didn’t get paid no matter how many people knew his name. It was just him and his lute. 

He was so absorbed in his pity party that he didn’t noticed the surge of energy in the room. He didn’t notice the ripple in the air as it tore apart to create a portal, and he didn’t noticed the man in the funny hat fall through indignantly. 

“Oh poppycock!” 

Jaskier jumped at the voice and fell backwards off his seat. He landed on his arse with a heavy thump as the room turned upside down, making his stomach lurch. 

“Oh shit.” He spat out before puking all over the floor. 

“What the?” The newcomer span around until he spotted Jaskier on the floor. “Oh my, are you quite alright?”

“Oh sure.” Jaskier slurred. “Peachy. Fucking brilliant”

The man was dressed in an expensive looking doublet which Jaskier needed in his wardrobe. It was a rich plum colour, and embroidered in beautiful gold thread that matched the man’s hair. His blond hair was curled and fell just below his chin. His face was almost elven in looks and his eyes… Jaskier could have sworn he’d seen those eyes somewhere before. They were a startling cornflower blue. On top of his soft curled hair was a plum bonnet with a large heron’s feather poking out one side. 

He reached out a hand and helped to pull Jaskier up off the floor. Jaskier took it but almost fell straight back over. The man steadied him with a hand around his waist. 

“By all the gods, dear fellow, how much have you had to drink?” The man asked. 

Jaskier was surprised to see concern, and what was probably pity, shining in his blue eyes. He had lovely eyes. Jaskier just couldn’t work out why they seemed so familiar. Had he seen this man before? No, that couldn’t be it. He would remember such an attractive man. He would have almost certainly tried to bed him.

“Fuck knows.” He mumbled. “Lost count after… after…” He held up his hand and tried to think back to what he’d had to drink, counting on his fingers. “ah fuck.”

The blond tilted his head. “Oh dear.” He sighed. “Well then, do you have a room? Somewhere to stay?”

Jaskier nodded. “Normally I’d say you should buy me a drink first… but that’s probably not a good idea.”

The blond flushed red. “Ah. Yes. Well. I assure you that my intentions are purely innocent!” He snapped haughtily. “As pretty as you are, I don’t think my husband would approve.” 

Jaskier giggled. “You think I’m pretty.”

The man sighed and pinched his nose in a way that was so similar to the arsehole who he refused to name. That was probably a coincidence. Jaskier was just love sick and finding comparisons where none existed. 

“You would be absolutely stunning, dear, if you weren’t drunk as a stunk and covered in your own sick.” The blond smiled sadly. 

Oh no.

Jaskier had made him sad.

“You have pretty eyes.” He purred and cupped the man’s cheek. 

The man winked and flashed him a charming smile. “Funnily enough I was going to say the same about you. Now, what’s your name, my dear?”

“Jaskier.” He slurred. 

The blond frowned. “Buttercup?”

Jaskier pouted. “What’s wrong with that?” 

“Oh, nothing, nothing at all. It’s just I’m sure you can appreciate the irony.” He laughed melodically and began to help Jaskier up to his room. Jaskier stumbled a few times, which really wasn’t his fault. The floor just wouldn’t stay still. 

“What irony?” He mumbled struggling to work out why his name was funny. 

“Well, you do know who I am?” The blond asked. 

Jaskier’s eyes went wide. “Did we… you know?”

“Oh gods, no. No offence, darling, but I’ve never met you before.” The man laughed. 

“Well how the fuck would I know you?” 

The man froze and turned to face him with a peculiar expression. “You really don’t know?”

“Nooo.” Jaskier slurred and poked him in the chest, falling against the wall as the man let go of him to open his door. “Enough of your, your riddles.”

The man laughed and half bowed with a dramatic flourish. “Master Dandelion at your service, renowned troubadour and famed poet.” 

Jaskier frowned. “Bullshit!”

“It is not!” Dandelion snapped. 

“Nah, I know all the good bards on the Continent.” Jaskier said proudly. “And you, sir, are not one of them!”

Dandelion paled. “Oh no. That blasted sorceress!” He cried and kicked the wall before yelping and hopping back on one foot. “I am going to kill that meddling witch!”

Jaskier chuckled darkly. “Oh you and me both. Witches, can’t live with them. Am I right?” He slung an arm around Dandelion and they both fell through the door into his bedroom. 

* * *

Dandelion peered at the sleeping bard on the bed. He didn’t know why he had decided to help him, honestly helping anyone had been the last thing on his mind when Yennefer had thrown him through the portal, but he’d just looked so helpless that Dandelion hadn’t been able to walk past. Jaskier’s cheeks were splotchy and red, he’d obviously been crying, and he’d drunk far more than he should have. Dandelion had barely managed to get Jaskier’s boots off before the man had passed out on the bed. 

Dandelion assumed heartbreak was the cause of the mess in front of him. He’d seen it more than enough times over his years as a poet. He thrived on it, most poets did. Heartbreak was his bread and butter. It was the never-ending source of inspiration for ballads, poems and epic tales all over the Continent. 

But whoever had caused this snotty pile of bard needed a right bollocking. 

Dandelion was angry. More than that, he was bloody livid! Firstly he’d had an argument with Geralt which had ended up with Yennefer promising to show him how good he had it and throwing him through a portal, which always made his stomach turn, and now he was stuck making sure this poor puppy of a bard didn’t choke on his own sick. 

Not to mention that no one seemed to know who he was. It was a complete nightmare. He picked up Jaskier’s lute from the corner of the room and began to play. It was a beautiful instrument, not dissimilar to his own back at Kaer Morhen. It looked elven made, just like his, but the golden swirls on the front panel of the lute was completely different. Still the sounds of the strings were so familiar. If he closed his eyes it was easy to believe he was holding his own beloved instrument. 

As the last notes hung in the room he opened his eyes and sighed. He needed to work out where Yennefer had dumped him and how this was supposed to help him see how good his own life was. Other than the fact he wasn’t a crying mess. 

He never understood mages, nor Geralt’s fascination with them. They were far too complicated and life was always unnecessarily messy when a sorceress was involved. He scoffed as he thought back to Geralt’s liaison with Coral back in the day. Geralt had been without his swords for weeks whilst he’d been holed up with the sorceress. 

Luckily since the rather explosive revelation of their feelings towards each other, his now husband’s trysts with beautiful mages were non-existent. 

Dandelion smiled fondly as his hand found the ring that was hung around his neck. 

Husband.

That was still something he couldn’t quite get used to, and oh how he delighted in calling Geralt husband at least once a day. It made his witcher ever so flustered which was simply wonderful. Dandelion had never had so much fun. 

He sighed and dropped his hand back into his lap. Maybe he’d been too tough on Geralt. He knew the witcher wasn’t the most romantic sort when he’d married him. Geralt made an effort but it would never be the fairytale romance that Dandelion had dreamed of, he should never have expected that from him. It had only been their first anniversary. It wasn’t a big deal. 

And maybe he shouldn’t have picked on Geralt right after a harsh training session with Vesemir. 

He’d just wanted something, flowers or a nice bottle of wine. He’d been petty and he knew it. He stropped over Geralt forgetting their anniversary and Yennefer had thrown him away like a doll. 

He looked back over at the young brunet on the bed, he was drooling onto the pillow but seemed more stable now. Dandelion tilted his head and then spun to leave the room. He needed to work out where he’d landed and why no one knew who he was. 

* * *

Jaskier groaned as he tried to sit up in the bed. He had no memory of getting upstairs….

“Oh fucking cock!” He moaned as he opened his eyes and his head felt like it was being split in two with an axe. A melodic laugh from the corner of the room startled him and he scrambled to sit up in the bed, holding his head in his hands. “Who the fuck are you?”

A blond elf-like angel was sitting in the corner of his room, fully dressed meaning that they probably didn’t fuck… hopefully. 

“Ah yes, I didn’t think you would remember, Jaskier.” The blond smirked with a tilt of his head, the feather on his hat flopping to one side.

“Right.” Jaskier replied dumbly. “So we’ve had this conversation before then.”

“Master Dandelion.” The blond, Dandelion winked. “Or you might know me better as Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove.”

Jaskier laughed. “Oh haha, very funny. You heard what I said to the Reavers!” 

Dandelion shook his head and picked up Jaskier’s lute. 

“Oh hey, no! Oi! That’s my lute!” He scrambled off the bed and promptly fell over. He cursed drunk Jaskier. He never knew when to fucking stop. At least this time he could blame it on Geralt, he might as well seeing as the bastard had blamed all his problems on Jaskier. 

Dandelion, the prick, ignored him and began to play. 

Jaskier mumbled under his breath. He didn’t want to admit it but the imposter wasn’t bad, in fact he was rather good. 

When he was finished playing Dandelion looked at him with a twinkle in his cornflower blue eyes. 

Eyes that looked so very much like his own. 

“You think you’re me?” Jaskier asked slowly. 

Dandelion nodded. “It is the only logical explanation, my dear. I had a little run in with our favourite sorceress and she threw me into a portal, into another world it seems. I had no idea such things were possible. It’s quite fascinating really.” 

Jaskier hummed. “Sounds like Yennefer.” 

Dandelion tittered and pulled off his hat. Jaskier frowned. His counterpart really did have the most beautiful hair. He wondered what he would look like with long hair softly curled like that. The blond was gorgeous, he wondered whether Dandelion’s Geralt had left him too. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to leave this brilliant man behind. 

“The real question, dear Jaskier, is what happened to you? I’ve been talking to the customers downstairs, I borrowed your absolutely divine instrument, I do hope you don’t mind?” Jaskier shook his head, he supposed the instrument belonged to both of them in some strange magic kind of way. “I knew you wouldn’t.” Dandelion flashed a bright smile at him. “As far as I can tell, your timeline, as it were, is behind mine. You’ve just finished with Borch, correct?”

Jaskier’s heart clenched and he felt like the air had been knocked out of him. His knees collapsed and he fell back onto the bed. 

“Borch. Yes.” His voice cracked as all the memories of the mountain flooded through his mind. 

He needed to get out of here. Geralt would inevitably make his way down the mountain and this was the first civilised stop after the cruel mountain path. Geralt would need supplies and he couldn’t fucking be here when the witcher arrived. 

Dandelion rushed to his side and put his arms around Jaskier’s shoulders. “Breathe, Jaskier.”

Jaskier tried to do just that but it was like there was no oxygen in then room. 

Dandelion cupped his cheek and forced him to look into his eyes. “What happened on the mountain?”

“He. He left me. No. Fuck that. He tossed me aside and trampled over my heart like it nothing more than dirt!” Jaskier sobbed and collapsed against Dandelion’s chest. “Shit, it fucking hurts! Gods I just… I feel so empty.”

Dandelion stroked his hair and let him cry all over his silky plum doublet. “But I don’t understand. Geralt would never do that. He’s our friend” 

Jaskier snorted. “Oh sure, friend. Like he’s ever called us that.” 

Dandelion’s hand stopped their ministrations. “Yes he has.” 

Jaskier pulled away and pouted at his counterpart. “No, he hasn’t.” He insisted. 

Dandelion stared at him in horror. 

“Oh.” He said slowly. “I understand now.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this got more love than I was expecting! Thank you!!! I really really love Book!Dandelion so it's an absolute joy to bring him into the showverse, but thank you. I hope you continue to enjoy!

“He said what?!” Dandelion cried with his hand over his chest. His hat almost falling off his head as he staggered backwards. “No. You must be mistaken.”

Jaskier scoffed and poked his food around his plate. His stomach was still fragile from the heavy drinking the night before and he wasn’t particularly hungry. “You haven’t met my Geralt. Well, not my Geralt. He’s definitely not mine. Fuck.” He dropped his head into his arms on the table. 

Dandelion patted him on the top of his head. “There, there. I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding. Geralt’s a bastard, I don’t doubt that, but he’s a good man. He must have his reasons.”

“Yeah well, his reasons are bullshit.” Jaskier grumbled. “And I’m sorry but how was him calling the law of surprise my fault?” 

Dandelion hummed thoughtfully and Jaskier peered up at him. The blond looked thoroughly perplexed by the whole situation. He was resting his chin on his hands and twirling a lock of hair between his fingers. “Now that is strange.” He sighed. “We weren’t even there for that.”

Jaskier frowned. “Yes, yes we were?”

Dandelion raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. “No we weren’t. I think I would have remembered that. Do you know how long it took to get the details of that particular adventure out of Geralt?” 

Jaskier snorted. “Oh ho ho, I can guess! Gods it’s like getting blood from a stone. I remember one time he made me stay behind when he went to fight a nightwraith. It took hours to drag the details from him which was such a shame because it was a tale of heartbreak and star-crossed lovers, parted in life and finally reunited by death. Oh the ballad I managed to spin, with a few well placed additions, I’m sure you’ll understand.” He winked at Dandelion. 

“Oh but of course.” Dandelion laughed gaily. “The truth is never quite as titillating as the imagination of a talented troubadour.” 

Jaskier grinned. “Oh you, you really get me, you know?” 

Dandelion winked. “I am you.” 

“Yeah, but here’s what I don’t understand.” Jaskier mused as he picked at his food. “You say you’re me.”

“I am.” Dandelion insisted. 

“But I was there! With Pavetta and Duny, the law of surprise and all that. I was there and it was my fault that Geralt was there.” He explained. “Queen Calanthe asked me to play, and of course I couldn’t say no to the Queen of Cintra. I was still a rising star on the horizon back then, and the opportunity was massive!”

“You played at Pavetta’s betrothal?” Dandelion stared at him in shock. “Melitele’s tits that’s not fair! What was it like? Tell me everything! Your version will be far superior to Geralt’s I’m sure.”

So Jaskier told him everything. There was a teensy chance that he embellished some of the finer details, and left out others. Dandelion didn’t need to know how long it had taken to recover his reputation as a lover after Geralt’s cruel joke. Instead, he told the troubadour that Geralt had defended his honour just like best friends should. 

Dandelion laughed in the right places and ooh’ed and ah’ed where appropriate. Dandelion’s eyes never left Jaskier’s the entire time he was speaking. 

Jaskier finished his tale with a flourish and let the last few words hang in the air before grinning. “And that was that really.”

Dandelion clapped with a charming smile. “Bravo! You are a sublime storyteller. There is no doubt that you are this world’s Dandelion.” 

“Ah thank you.” Jaskier smirked and looked down at his hands. 

“So you led Geralt to Ciri?” Dandelion mused and licked his lips. 

Jaskier frowned. “Ciri?”

Dandelion paled. “Oh, well, yes. Princess Cirilla, the Lion Cub of Cintra. I suppose you don’t know that yet though.”

Jaskier shook his head. “Geralt never went back and Calanthe never let me back in the city either.” 

Dandelion hummed and put a finger to his lips. “It really is quite peculiar. What about Yennefer?”

Jaskier turned away. “I’m not talking about Yennefer.”

Dandelion put a hand on his. “Jaskier, tell me about the djinn. You were there for that too?”

Jaskier laughed darkly. “Oh yeah. I was there for that lovely little adventure.”

They compared their versions of the events surrounding the djinn. It wasn’t so different this time around, except that Geralt hadn’t been struggling with insomnia, they had simply been looking for fish. Dandelion was half way through telling Jaskier about the time he’d visited Geralt at the temple of Melitele after his legendary fight with the Striga when the doors of the tavern opened and one Geralt of Rivia stood in the doorway. 

“Oh no. Oh no no no no. No.” Jaskier groaned and jumped up from his seat to hide behind Dandelion. If he was lucky, Geralt hadn’t seen him already. 

“Jaskier!” Dandelion hissed. “You cannot hide forever!” 

“Yeah well, watch me.” He grumbled back and held up his lute as cover. 

“Jaskier?” Geralt’s gruff voice snapped. “You know I can see you.”

Jaskier winced and stood up, brushing off his clothes. “Ah, Geralt. Fancy seeing you here, small world. I really must be off!” He went to run away but Dandelion, the fucking traitor grabbed his wrist. 

“Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde!” Dandelion barked. “Sit down this instant.” 

Jaskier looked between the golden haired bard and the more familiar face of his witcher. Geralt was scowling fiercely at Dandelion but the blond didn’t even flinch, a trait they shared apparently. 

“What the fuck?” Geralt growled. 

“Sit!” Dandelion raised his chin, and sounded more and more like the Viscount they were raised to be. “I won’t ask again.”

Geralt seemed to be taken aback enough to do as Dandelion asked and he plopped onto the bench where Jaskier had been sitting. 

“How did you?” Geralt looked between Jaskier and Dandelion intently. “I never… the fuck?”

He stared at Jaskier with those gorgeous amber eyes and Jaskier’s heart melted. Oh gods he was so pathetic. He turned away so he didn’t have to see the cause of his heartbreak. It was too much for any one man to bear. 

“Never mind how. Now tell me, dear witcher.” Dandelion leaned forward on the table and peered at Geralt with twinkling cornflower blue eyes that were so like Jaskier’s. “For the love of Melitele, why would you push Jaskier away like that?”

Geralt grunted. 

“Ah ah.” Dandelion twirled a lock of hair between his fingers. “You cannot grunt your way out of this one, darling.”

Jaskier choked on his own breath. “Excuse me, what?!” He snapped. “Darling. Oooh ho. No. Not doing this.” He tried to escape again but Dandelion was too fast. 

“Jaskier, what the fuck is this?” Geralt growled. “More shit to shovel?”

Jaskier froze. 

Fuck.

That was a barb to the heart. 

His throat was dry and for once in his life he had no words. 

Luckily, Dandelion wasn’t similarly afflicted. 

“Geralt!” He chided. “This has nothing to do with your friend, and yes I’m using friend. What would Nenneke say if she heard you talking such nonsense? Oh I do suppose she was never my greatest fan but even she could admit we were friends! What did she call me? Your fellow?”

Geralt huffed and stared between the two of them wordlessly before tilting his head. “Your eyes…” He breathed. “Cornflower blue.”

Oh well, wasn’t that great. He had that same air in his voice as whenever Yennefer came along. Of course Geralt was charmed by Dandelion but not him. The world just fucking had it in for Jaskier the bard. 

“Familiar aren’t they?” Dandelion winked. “Yours are different in this world. My Geralt has cat eyes, the same gorgeous golden irises though. I’m glad that hasn’t changed.”

“Your Geralt?” Geralt asked. 

Dandelion nodded. “Yes. Mine.”

“You're… Jaskier?” Geralt hummed thoughtfully. “Same eyes.”

Jaskier blushed. 

“I go by Dandelion.” Dandelion said with a little bow that made the feather in his hat flop in front of his eyes. 

“Dandelion.” Geralt repeated. “Both flowers.”

“And we both decided to follow our best friend around the Continent for decades to write the most spectacular ballads. Really, Geralt. There is no better muse for a bard than Geralt of Rivia.” Dandelion flashed a brilliant smile at Geralt which turned into a grimace in a heartbeat. “Only my Geralt didn’t bloody well dump me at the top of a mountain!” Dandelion poked Geralt in the chest. “What were you thinking? You blithering idiot!”

“Umm.” 

“Look at him!” Dandelion pointed at Jaskier who resisted the urge to hide behind his lute case again as Geralt’s eyes flashed to him. 

“Hello.” He waved and then mentally cursed. 

Who did that?

“Twenty-two years of his life following you around the Continent, putting up with your grumpy arse, singing ballads to try and make at least someone on this godforsaken world appreciate what you do for them.” Dandelion snapped and Geralt shrunk back in his seat slightly. “And you do what? Toss him aside like yesterday’s dinner?”

“It’s not like that!” Geralt snapped back. 

“Oh really?” Jaskier put a hand on his hip. “What was it you said, Geralt? Something about a blessing and taking me off your hands?”

“I didn’t mean it.” He grumbled. 

“Oh sure. Sure. I believe you. Except you kind of sort of did mean it.” Jaskier pouted. “Actually you know what? No. Thank you very much, Dandelion. It was an honour to meet you, really. You are quite brilliant.” Dandelion preened at the praise and adjusted his hat. “But you! You asked me to leave. So here’s me, leaving. Wish granted.” Jaskier tugged away from Dandelion’s grasp and stormed out of the tavern. 

“Jaskier!” Dandelion called after him, of course Dandelion would be the one to chase him. 

Why would he expect anything else?

* * *

Geralt choked on his ale as Dandelion finished his tale. 

“Husband?” He asked wiping the beer from his chin. “We’re… married?”

Dandelion giggled. “Not us. I would never marry you. No offence.”

Geralt grunted. How was he supposed to not take offence to that? He’d just found out that in an alternate universe he was married to Jaskier, but the man who supposedly loved him wouldn’t even marry him. 

“Oh come now, Geralt. Do you really think so little of me that I would marry you after how you treated poor Jaskier?” Dandelion sighed and twisted his hair in his fingers. It was very pretty hair, soft golden blond with gentle curls.

But he looked wrong. Those eyes were Jaskier’s but everything else was just wrong and he looked ridiculous in that hat. He couldn’t imagine his bard ever wearing something quite so pompous. 

His bard?

Where had that thought even come from? 

Jaskier wasn’t his, certainly not anymore. He’d royally fucked that one up. 

“Would you even want to marry him?” Dandelion asked with a tilt of his head and a curious expression on his face.

Geralt frowned. 

“Ok that’s too much to ask. Let’s start simple. Do you love him? Do you even find him attractive?” Dandelion rolled his eyes and sighed. 

“Hmm.” 

He thought about it. He’d never really thought about it before. He’d actively avoided thinking about it. He didn’t enjoy feelings, they overwhelmed him easily and made his heart and head hurt. Jaskier was handsome. Anyone could tell you that, and Geralt knew he didn’t like it when the bard slept around with everyone else. A part of him wondered why Jaskier had never tried to sleep with him, but if what Dandelion was saying about his counterpart was true then Jaskier probably had tried to sleep with him. He’d just not noticed. 

“Gosh. You really don’t say much do you?” Dandelion whined. “It’s a yes or no question Geralt. Do you find him attractive?” 

Geralt nodded. “Yes.” He paused. “I like his eyes.”

Dandelion laughed melodically. “Finally I see my Geralt in you.” 

Geralt scowled. “I like… his tenacity.” 

“Good, very good!” Dandelion clapped his hands together. “But don’t force it, my dear. I’m not here to force your hand in marriage. I think. Yennefer wasn’t very clear about the details.” He mused. 

Geralt snarled. “Yen? What did she say?”

Dandelion peered at him with narrow eyes. “Jaskier told me you fought with her too, why Geralt?”

“Jaskier doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut!” Geralt snapped. 

“A trait we have in common, I’m afraid. Geralt often gets cross at me for the same thing.” Dandelion sighed wistfully. “I do hope he’s ok.”

“Tell me about Yennefer.” Geralt growled. 

“She’s fine, Geralt. Happy. She’s got the child she always wanted.” Dandelion said with a wave of his hands.

“What?” 

“Your child surprise?” Dandelion rested his hands on his chin and took a sip of his wine. 

“But… I, he married you?” Geralt frowned. Why would he be raising a child with Yennefer if he’d married the bard? Not to mention Jaskier and Yennefer’s friendship was not good on the best of days. They were more likely to exchange heated words than co-parent a child.

Dandelion patted his cheek and smiled fondly at him. The way his eyes twinkled made Geralt’s heart do strange things in his chest. The cornflower blue eyes that were identical to Jaskier’s looking at him with such adoration. 

The worst part was that Geralt knew that expression. He’d seen it before. He’d just never noticed, never wanted to notice, and then the wish had happened and he’d been pulled towards Yennefer in a way he’d never experienced before. Perhaps she was right. They didn’t know whether any of it was real. The more he thought about it the less he wanted to listen to that tug towards her. It was as if Yennefer’s bitter words had poisoned the djinn’s magic, weakening the link between them. The more he thought about it the more he could remember the mage from Rinde, entrapping innocent villagers to entertain her in some sort of orgy. The mage that had bewitched him to do her bidding in exchange for Jaskier’s life even though he’d offered himself willingly.

She was beautiful and powerful and one of the most incredible people he’d ever met, but did he really love her?

He hadn’t felt anything but slight disdain towards her until that perfume, that scent. Then the wish had overwhelmed them and he’d fallen in love so suddenly, so completely.

It wasn’t like that with Jaskier. Jaskier was a constant presence in his life. A comfort that he hadn’t realised he’d needed. A friend he hadn’t known he’d wanted. Jaskier was sunlight creeping from behind the clouds, he was music in a world of war and blood, he was poetry amongst the throws of insults.

And he’d missed him, knowing that he’d fucked up completely, remembering Jaskier’s expression when he’d walked away. He’d missed him.

He’d had the night to sleep on it, to process the storm of emotions inside of him that witchers weren’t even supposed to feel. He’d even been relieved to see Jaskier still sitting at the table when he’d walked in. The night had felt very lonely once the sun had set. He had thought that he wanted the quiet of solitude but it suddenly felt stifling.

“You did see Pavetta’s gift, didn’t you Geralt?” Dandelion teased gently. 

Geralt nodded. 

“Then what the blazes makes you think a witcher and bard can raise a child with those gifts?” Dandelion’s tongue flicked out between his lips and Geralt blinked. 

Jaskier did that too when he was nervous. 

Geralt tilted his head at the bard. “Are you alright?”

“What? Yes. Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Dandelion stammered. 

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “You’re trapped here, alone.”

Dandelion huffed, whined and dropped his head onto the table. “Geralt!” He moaned. 

“Hmm.”

“You didn’t need to remind me.” The bard’s words were muffled as he spoke into the puffy plum sleeves of his doublet. “What if I never get home? What if he forgets about me?”

“He won’t.” Geralt reassured the bard. “We’ll get you back.”

“How?” Dandelion peered up at him with worried eyes. “We can’t exactly asked Yennefer after your spectacular performance yesterday, and we still need to find Jaskier. I should probably add that I didn’t tell your bard that I was married to Geralt.” Dandelion smiled sadly. “He just looked so miserable.”

“Hmm.”

“You should probably apologise.” Dandelion mused. “At the very least you should save your friendship, and do call him your friend once in a while, darling. This lone wolf act you’ve got going is not fair on him.” 

Geralt glared at the bard. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

Dandelion held up his wine glass and downed the contents. “That’s all I can ask, dear witcher.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it. Let me know what you think! 
> 
> I'm also on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/) so come and say hi! I do post some ficlets under 1k on tumblr that haven't yet made it up onto AO3 so ummm... that's an incentive to follow me?? Maybe. I don't know. I hope so. 
> 
> Til next time!
> 
> \- Wolfie


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a shorter filler chapter but necessary (in my humble writer opinion).
> 
> Also tw: vomiting due to hangover and overwhelming feelings.

Jaskier hadn’t gotten very far, mostly due to the fact he couldn’t breathe. His back was pressed up against the wall of the tavern and his eyes were closed as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Come on, Jask.” He muttered. “It’s not that bad, they are just talking. Dandelion wouldn’t do anything. He’s married, apparently. Oh bollocks.” 

His stomach twisted and he vomited over the floor. 

“Oh fuck that’s gross.” He muttered as he wiped his mouth. “I am never drinking again.”

He pushed off the wall and pulled the strap of his lute case back up over his shoulder. He needed to leave. He needed to put as much distance between him and Geralt as possible. Why had the bastard come in to ruin everything? He’d been enjoying Dandelion’s company. That was probably narcissistic of him but that was a bard’s trait, he couldn’t be blamed for it. 

He wondered about Dandelion’s husband. Did he still travel with Geralt? Did his husband join them on their adventures? Did his estranged family know of the affair? Did Dandelion ever love his Geralt the way Jaskier did? 

He snorted. 

That was unlikely, not if the the bard had married another.

Unless. 

“No, that’s stupid.” He muttered. “He said they were friends. Wonder what that’s like. Must be nice.”

He went to the stables to see if he could find a horse. Roach was there munching on a hay bale. He stared at the bay horse for a few seconds. 

“Bollocks.” He mumbled and grabbed her tack. “Call it an I’m sorry for treating you like shit for twenty-two years present.”

Luckily for him, this particular Roach had known Jaskier for as long as she’d known Geralt and, unlike her predecessor, was actually quite fond of him. Once she was saddled he hopped up with ease and spurred her on out of the stable in a swift gallop. 

“Take that witcher!” He cried gleefully as the wind rushed past him. The motion of the horse made his stomach turn but he didn’t care. He was free from his heartbreak for now and there was no way Geralt could catch him. 

He was so busy laughing to himself that he didn’t hear the shouts of his name as he galloped over the horizon. 

* * *

Geralt ran down the path but it was no good. Jaskier was gone. Roach was gone. His potions and all his belongings were gone. He spun round to glare at Dandelion who was bent in two with laughter, his hat in his hands and his hair falling in front of his eyes. 

“He stole my fucking horse!” Geralt snapped. 

Dandelion snorted. “Hell hath no fury like a bard scorned.” He pointed out. “By the end of the month no one will hire you unless you fix this.”

Geralt snarled at the troubadour. 

“Oh calm down. Melitele forbid, Geralt.” Dandelion chuckled once more but regained his composure. “We can fix it. If I know him, which I am sure I do, he just needs to go lick his wounds. Now you need to tell me what he didn’t?”

Geralt stopped and stared at Dandelion. The bard didn’t noticed he’d stopped until he spun round with his hands on his hips.

“Well, go on!” He pouted. “You and I both know that a bard doesn’t always tell the truth, so what would Jaskier leave out?” 

Geralt frowned. What did Jaskier leave out of his ballads? He told Geralt’s story, his adventures, his life. They were never completely accurate. Jaskier made him more of a white knight than he really was. Something that Geralt was secretly pleased about. When he’d first started his life on the path he’d dreamed of being a knight, a hero. Those dreams had been cut down faster than he could form Aard. 

More recently the ballads had been about Geralt’s relationship with Yen. Their on and off relationship had proved excellent fodder for Jaskier’s creative mind and the songs had been incredibly successful. Although Jaskier never particularly enjoyed singing them, he tended to perform them on request only after he’d done the initial rounds of introducing a new song. 

Dandelion was humming thoughtfully under his breath as Geralt considered his question. He looked at the bard, taking note of the differences and similarities. Dandelion was taller but less well built. He was slender, almost lanky whereas Jaskier was surprisingly muscular under his puffy clothes. Dandelion tilted his head when he noticed Geralt’s staring. His tongue stuck between his lips as he concentrated on whatever melody he was composing in his head. That was a familiar expression, one that Geralt knew all too well, one that he was starting to miss. 

He’d felt empty ever since Yen and Jaskier had left him on the mountain. He’d thought it was Yennefer he was pining for. He always missed her when they were apart, the wish made sure of that, but Jaskier had never left like that before. Normally it was a cheery wave as he headed to Oxenfurt whilst Geralt made his way north, and there was always a sense that they would see other again. 

Jaskier had never fled from him like that before.

“Any ideas?” Dandelion asked with a tilt of his head. 

Geralt sighed. “No.”

“Himself. Geralt.” Dandelion sighed dramatically. 

“Hmm.” Geralt considered that and then thought back over the last few days when they’d been hunting the dragon. “He asked to go to the coast… with me, wanted to figure out what pleased him.” 

Dandelion’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

Geralt growled. “What? Spit it out, bard and for once in your life speak plainly.”

Dandelion sighed and pushed his hat back on his head as he ran a hand through his hair. “No wonder he’s so skittish.”

“Skittish?” 

“Geralt! You rejected him. He asked you to go on a getaway by the sea and you told him to fuck off!” Dandelion pouted. “Gods, you really don’t see, do you?”

Geralt shook his head. 

Dandelion sighed forlornly. “No wonder Yennefer sent me here. It will take a miracle to fix this! Come, Geralt. Let’s go find your friend.”

“He’s not—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Geralt!” Dandelion pointed at him. 

“Hmm. Fine.” Geralt scowled but he couldn’t help the smile. This Dandelion fellow wasn’t too bad after all. He was starting to see why the other version of him might have fallen in love with their bard. 

* * *

Jaskier rode hard, pushing Roach as hard he could without breaking both of them. He stopped when he could, playing for his rooms and selling some of Geralt’s supplies when the innkeepers wouldn’t accept his songs alone, but eventually he made it to his destination. 

The coast. 

The sea sparkled under the setting sun and he could almost see the mermaids breaking the surface to sing and enjoy the wonders of the human world. It was truly inspiring. He breathed in the salty air and leaned forwards to scratch Roach behind the ears. “Look at that, Roach. Geralt doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

His heart ached in his chest. Geralt should be here with him. They were supposed to come together, but hopefully the witcher was helping Dandelion find a way back home to his husband. That seemed like the sort of noble quest Geralt would assist with, and with the distance he’d put between them Jaskier’s broken heart didn’t seem quite so bad. He ached right down to his bones but it was bearable now. 

He dismounted the bay to give her a rest as they walked the final leg towards the town in search of lodgings, hopefully somewhere he could sing in the evenings. The last tavern he’d stayed at had already had a bard and he’d felt rather useless as he watched the other musician strut around, and playing his songs no less!

He hadn’t minded it when Geralt was around, at least then he’d had someone to moan to about how the idiot on stage was butchering his work. Geralt seemed to enjoy insulting other bards with him, it had been something they bonded over. 

“Fuck!” Jaskier cursed and ran his hands through his hair. “Just stop thinking about the fucker for two minutes, please I beg of you.” 

His brain didn’t listen.

He snorted. 

When did it ever?

He’d managed to find a cosy little inn with a stable, that was thankfully bardless. He’d played for both his room and his dinner, which left him with barely any coin of his own by the time he’d handed over the innkeeper’s cut but he didn’t mind. It was the life of a travelling bard and the fresh sea air was doing wonders for his heart, not that he was any closer to finding out what pleased him. He had thought it was Geralt, and honestly the never-ending ache in his chest seemed to support that theory but if Geralt made him happy then why did it hurt so much?

Maybe he was overreacting. 

He shouldn’t have teased Geralt so soon after he’d fought with Yennefer, he was always damned tetchy after run-ins with the sorceress. They were friends. They had to be. He couldn’t have wasted twenty-two years on a man who wouldn’t even consider them friends, and he couldn’t exactly blame Geralt for not feeling the same way about him. He’d already accepted that his feelings were unrequited. He’d made peace with it. 

It just stung when Geralt had pushed him away so viciously, and perhaps he’d already felt bitter for having been left behind whilst they went to fight for the dragon. He wasn’t immune to jealousy. He’d be a terrible bard if he was. 

He flopped down on the lumpy bed in his room with a heavy sigh. After playing all evening he was exhausted and he was tired of running across the Continent to escape Geralt, the witcher had probably gone in the other direction. He had no reason to follow Jaskier, and every reason to avoid him. 

Sleep would not come easy that night, nor any of the nights to follow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/) for more witchery and geraskier content! I also post some tumblr exclusive writing, mostly smaller bits because titles and summaries are my least favourite thing to think of! 
> 
> \- Wolfie


	4. Chapter 4

After weeks of riding across the Continent Geralt and Dandelion were finally overlooking the ocean. Geralt wasn’t entirely sure whether they were in the right place but Dandelion insisted they were. Geralt grunted and decided that if anyone knew where Jaskier had fled to then it would be Dandelion. The more he discovered about the blond bard the more he could see familiarities with Jaskier, and the more he felt that empty feeling in his chest grow. It was some strange torture realising just how much you missed someone when their doppelgänger was right there. 

He tried to focus on the differences between them. It made the distance from Jaskier seem more tolerable without the constant reminder of what he’d thrown away. The hair was too blond, his voice was too… posh? Jaskier had a soft lilt in his accent that Dandelion was missing. It made Jaskier seem less pompous despite his choice in clothes. Jaskier was stronger too with tuffs of dark chest hair peeking out from beneath his doublets, doublets that were almost always undone. Dandelion didn’t share that preference. He was really too put together. 

“Here we are!” Dandelion announced with wide arms. 

Geralt hummed and dismounted Roach. Roach two. Jaskier had his real Roach but he hadn’t been able to think of another name, a fact that Dandelion had delighted in. The troubadour had called his grey gelding Pegasus with a chuckle. Dandelion’s Geralt would probably know what had amused him so much but Geralt was clueless. 

Dandelion looked at him and sighed. “Gods, I hope I get home soon. I do miss the conversation.”

“And I miss the blessed silence.” Geralt grumbled. 

Dandelion laughed. “With Jaskier around? Nonsense.”

Geralt just hummed in agreement. “There’s a tavern. Let’s check there.”

“Excellent idea, my friend.” Dandelion flashed a toothy smile that was too similar to Jaskier’s. 

“We’re not friends.” Geralt lied. 

It was easier to lie. He made friends too easily for a witcher and he lost them just as fast. Jaskier being the main exception. He was used to the rejection but it still hurt, so it was easier to deny it had ever existed, a habit that was hard to shake even with his most loyal friend. 

Jaskier. 

Why did all his thoughts seem to circle back to Jaskier now?

He snarled under his breath and stalked towards the tavern. It was Dandelion’s fault for planting the idea of loving Jaskier in his head. He’d been diligently pushing that thought away for years. Humans were too fragile, too mortal for him to love. Another reason he had let the magic of the wish sway him towards the less vulnerable Yennefer. He didn’t want to lose anyone and he didn’t have to lose her, or at least that had been the idea. His own foolishness had ruined that for him. 

He heard Jaskier’s singing from the street. It pulled him towards the tavern, stronger than any djinn’s magic. He’d never felt that before.

“Fucking Dandelion.” He growled under his breath so the offending bard wouldn’t hear him. 

“Oh his voice is exquisite!” Dandelion preened as if Jaskier’s talent reflected back on him. Geralt supposed it sort of did in some way. 

“Come on.” Geralt pushed the door open and his eyes found Jaskier’s across the room. 

His bard faltered over the phrase he’d been singing as their eyes met but he plastered a bright smile on his face and carried on. Geralt was probably the only person that knew that smile was fake. 

“What are you going to say to him?” Dandelion hissed and Geralt swatted his arm. “What?” The bard pouted. “It’s a valid question!”

“Sorry. I’m going to say sorry.” Geralt grumbled. 

“And?” Dandelion looked at him expectantly and Geralt rolled his eyes. 

“Admit we’re friends.” Geralt sighed. 

Dandelion patted him on the shoulder. “And then maybe I can go home.” He added with his own wistful sigh. 

“I’ll get you back.” Geralt promised. It was only fair after Dandelion had trailed after him across the Continent for weeks after Jaskier. 

Dandelion laughed his beautiful melodic laugh and smiled at him so affectionately that Geralt was momentarily stunned. “I know you will, dear witcher.” Then he smirked mischievously. “Otherwise I’ll have to woo your bard for myself. He really is a jewel.”

Geralt couldn’t help the growl that ripped from his throat. 

“Oh ho ho!” Dandelion laughed. “Well, isn’t that a development?”

“Shut it, Dandelion.”

“Mind if I cut in?” 

Geralt’s eyes snapped up to meet cornflower blue, framed by soft brunet hair. He hadn’t even noticed the music had stopped, he was slipping. 

“Jaskier.” 

Jaskier smiled weakly and tilted his head. “Geralt?”

“I’m sorry, Jaskier.” Geralt mumbled, the words feeling heavy on his tongue. He cleared his throat. “It would…it would please me if—”

“Yes?”

“—if you would continue to travel with me.” Geralt continued, glaring at Jaskier for his interruption. Didn’t he know it was hard enough with him butting in?

Jaskier’s tongue flicked out to lick his lips. “Why? I can’t go back to before Geralt. I was happy to follow you and expect nothing in return but… I’m. I’m worth more than that. I deserve more than that.”

Geralt closed his eyes and sighed, this was the hard part. “Because you’re my friend. My best friend.”

“In the whole wide world?” Jaskier’s hand was on his arm and he opened his eyes to see Jaskier’s blue ones twinkling back at him. 

“Hmm.” He agreed. 

Jaskier scoffed. “Your best friend.”

“Hmm.” Geralt smiled back with a tilt of his head. 

Friend. 

He’d almost forgotten he was allowed to have those outside of the walls of Kaer Morhen. Years of denial almost felt ridiculous now he’d said the words aloud and the beaming smile on Jaskier’s face for something so simple. He’d been a fool. 

“I don’t expect you to forgive me.” He added. “I’ve not been fair to you, took someone special to point that out.” He glanced back at Dandelion who was watching with his hands on his hips. 

Jaskier narrowed his eyes. “How much did he tell you?” He snapped with an accusing glare at his counterpart. 

Geralt chuckled. “The problem with bards is that they never know when to shut up.”

Jaskier groaned. “Oh gods, you know everything, don’t you?”

Geralt nodded. 

“Bollocks!” Jaskier grumbled.

“I won’t apologise.” Dandelion chimed with a disarming smile. “He deserved to know.” 

“I can go.” Jaskier mumbled. “If it’s, if it’s easier for you but I can be discreet, I don’t expect anything from you. I know you love… well you know. Are we saying her name? Or is it too soon? It’s too soon isn’t it?”

Geralt heard the spike in his bard’s heartbeat, a bitter scent hanging in the air. 

“Jaskier.”

“But really I can be the best friend I’ve always been! You’ll hardly even notice the difference. I swear. I can get over it. You know me.” Jaskier carried on as if Geralt hadn’t said a word, pacing around the tavern with a series of flamboyant hand gestures. “I fall in and out of love faster than Valdo Marx can get thrown out of court due to his, quite frankly terrible, playing, and let me tell you… he can thrown out faster than lightning.”

“Jaskier!” Geralt growled and grabbed his bard’s hand as he swept past. 

“Shutting up.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Jaskier looked up at him with shining blue eyes, wide and hopeful. “You don’t?”

Geralt shook his head. “No.”

Jaskier nodded and licked his lips. “Right, good. That’s, that’s good.” Then he frowned and prodded Geralt in his chest. “This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you!”

Geralt smirked and tilted his head. “Course not.”

“You have years of neglecting your best friend to make up for!” Jaskier announced with narrow eyes. 

“I know.”

The bard put his hands on his hips and flicked his fringe from his eyes. “Good. Oooh and we can start by getting my dear friend here back to his husband!” Jaskier winked at Dandelion. 

Dandelion who had been watching their conversation with bright curious eyes suddenly laughed. “My husband.” He sighed. “I wonder how long I’ve been away. Time must pass differently here, otherwise our timelines would be running parallel but as you know I’m essentially from your future. Don’t worry I haven’t spoiled anything major. A name here or there perhaps but nothing serious.”

“Other than the fact that you, or I, we get married.” Jaskier pouted. “Is he at least handsome?”

If Geralt could have blushed then he was certain he would have been. He didn’t miss the way both Jaskier and Dandelion’s eyes flitted towards him with matching cornflower blue eyes. Jaskier did blush, very prettily. Geralt cursed Dandelion for ever bring his feelings flying back to the service. Before a few weeks ago he wouldn’t have even consider calling Jaskier pretty, and yet the way Jaskier’s cheeks flushed just seemed to make his eyes sparkle even brighter. 

Fuck.

If Dandelion were to ask him whether he loved Jaskier now, he wasn’t sure what the answer would be. Before he could easily say no, now… the lines were blurred. 

Dandelion smirked. “Oh he’s very handsome and he has the best heart I’ve ever known in a man, a grumpy at times but I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s really quite endearing.” 

Geralt wanted to turn from the tavern and never return. He was starting to realise how Jaskier felt when he’d worked out that Geralt knew how he felt. 

“Dandelion.” Geralt snapped.

Jaskier peered between the two of them, his tongue peaking out between his lips. Geralt decided that there was a very interesting crack on the wall, much more interesting than the pair of curious bards in front of him, and stared at it intently. 

Jaskier gasped and his hands started flailing in Geralt’s direction. 

Shit.

“Ooh. No. No no no.” He whined. “Geralt?!”

Dandelion just laughed. The traitor. 

“Ah well, you were bound to find out eventually.” The troubadour’s eyes were sparkling, the bastard was enjoying this!

“And you! You knew!” Jaskier pointed an accusing finger at him and scowled. 

Geralt glared at Dandelion who just winked. 

“Yeah. I knew. I didn’t want to assume anything. Not after…” He trailed off. 

“Yes well. I’m not exactly proposing on the spot, Geralt, but you knew, and you didn’t say anything?” Jaskier pouted. 

Geralt snorted. “Jaskier, you stole my horse and ran off.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes and waved his hand. “You should have told me! Wait, does that mean it’s not impossible that you could love me?”

The air suddenly felt thick between them. If Geralt didn’t know better he would have almost said a portal was about to appear but his medallion was still on his chest and there wasn’t the telltale sign of crackling chaos. 

He grunted. “Not impossible, no.” 

Jaskier’s fingers were flexing in the air, dancing on lute strings that weren’t there or itching for a quill and his notebook. “Geralt.” His voice trembled. 

“I hurt you.” Geralt reminded him. “I want to earn your forgiveness.” 

Jaskier patted his cheek. “I wasn’t sure I’d give you the chance, but I suppose we’ve been through too much to just throw it away.” 

Geralt smiled softly at the bard. It wasn’t the burning passion he had with Yennefer but there was a warmth in his chest. It probably wasn’t love yet but it was a start. It was their new beginning, a friendship that had lasted for decades and would hopefully last for decades more. 

“Thank you.” He nodded at his bard. 

Jaskier threw his arms around Geralt’s neck and they embraced tightly. It lasted longer than a hug between friends normally would but neither of them were quite ready to let go yet. 

They were too lost in each other that they didn’t notice the crackle in the air and a portal opened up next to the blond bard.

Dandelion sighed as he looked at his two new friends. They were no longer torn apart but they had a long way to go if they wanted to follow the same path he had with Geralt. 

Geralt. 

His husband. 

The man he’d not seen for weeks whilst he was letting darling Yennefer’s little prank play out. Gods, he missed him so much. He missed looking into Geralt’s eyes and seeing the love he had for the witcher reflected back at him. 

He thought about saying goodbye but they were busy and he wasn’t sure how much time he had left. He pulled the feather from his hat and left it on the table next to them before bounding through the portal. 

The world shimmered around him and he was back at Kaer Morhen, in the bedroom that he shared with Geralt. The man in question was pacing angrily on the balcony overlooking the mountains.

“Geralt!” He called and ran over to his husband. 

Geralt spun round with frantic eyes. “Dandelion! Where the fuck have you been?” 

“Oh darling, what an adventure I’ve had! You won’t believe a word of it. How long was I gone?” Dandelion leant his forehead against Geralt’s and his husband’s arms wrapped around his waist. 

“Four weeks. I thought I’d lost you.” Geralt grumbled in a low voice before pulling Dandelion into a kiss. 

Dandelion melted against his husband’s chest and wrapped his arms around Geralt’s neck. “I’m sorry, darling.”

“I won’t forget again, I promise.” Geralt buried his head in Dandelion’s neck. 

Dandelion laughed and stroked a hand through Geralt’s long silver hair, gods he’d missed being allowed to touch his husband. Other Geralt had been so close and yet so different. 

“You will.” He teased. “But that’s ok, Geralt. I don’t need flowers to know that you love me.”

Geralt grunted and pulled Dandelion back into another kiss, one that Dandelion was eager to return. 

He was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have reached the end!! Geralt and Jaskier have some growing to do together but they've been set on the right path again. 
> 
> I apparently can't stop writing these two (four?) and there's lots more on my [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/) where I post shorter ficlets (mostly under 1k.) 
> 
> Feedback is wonderful so if you could leave a comment then I would be forever grateful. 
> 
> \- Wolfie


End file.
